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Click hereLet me tell you about
a little girl lost
in search of daddy/god—
she is an accidental mother
and lover of beginnings.
Often she returns
to a feral, wild-eyed thing,
licking endless wounds
in need of deep, dark healing.
Mostly she feels hidden.
Did someone bury her alive?
Her tears have turned to dust,
her flesh to brittle bone,
and her tongue tries to speak the words
but no one can understand.
Her love could heal the world,
but if you touch her, she will crumble,
turn to dust under your fingers
and leave you empty-handed.
This poem has been selected for listing in Wednesday's New Poems Review.<br>
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